


Five Times Bruno Walton's Schemes Didn't Go As Planned

by livii



Category: Gordon Korman - MacDonald Hall series
Genre: M/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-25
Updated: 2006-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livii/pseuds/livii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cause of the explosion was officially listed as swamp gas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Bruno Walton's Schemes Didn't Go As Planned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [V](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=V).



> Great big thanks to h311ybean on LJ for beta reading (remaining errors are mine or things I stubbornly stuck with), and to everyone who listened to me flail about writing in this universe (especially since I ended up loving the experience!) No thanks to the seller on Abebooks who sent me the wrong book.

 

 

**One.**

The Chutney _Daily Observer_ reported that the smoke could be seen five kilometres away, and the explosion had rattled windows for at least a three-kilometre radius. No injuries were reported, and the only property damage claimed was by a Miss Scrimmage, Headmistress of Miss Scrimmage's Finishing School For Young Ladies, who alleged that the explosion had caused two decorative plates to fall off her bedroom wall and shatter. She was successfully reimbursed by Mr. William R. Sturgeon, Headmaster of Macdonald Hall, for twenty-one dollars and eighteen cents.

The cause of the explosion was officially listed as swamp gas.

* * *

"Surely, Walton, the chances of swamp gas naturally exploding right outside Room 306 are very low," Mr. Sturgeon said.

Bruno and Boots shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench in the Fish's office. "Sorry, sir, but I'm not the statistics guy," Bruno answered. "You'll want to ask Elmer Drimsdale about that one. I'm sure he could figure it out for you."

Boots was suddenly overcome by a coughing fit.

The Fish turned and pinned Boots with the cold glare that had earned him his nickname. "Maybe O'Neal can enlighten us, then, on what exactly happened last night."

"I'm sorry sir, but I have no idea," Boots said.

Mr. Sturgeon sighed.

* * *

"Two weeks of dishwashing duty, and cleaning all the soot off Dormitory 3's windows - I thought he was going to kill us!" Bruno exclaimed, as they left for breakfast.

"Well, he did get written up in the paper," Boots said thoughtfully. "And if they can't connect it to the students, it's free publicity for the school."

"Speaking of that, thanks for covering for me," Bruno said, slapping Boots on the back. "Reliable as always. Good old Boots."

"Yeah, now that I think about it," Boots replied, "What _were_ you doing? I was asleep, and the next thing you know, there's an explosion outside our window, and now I have dishwashing duty!"

"Good old Boots!" Bruno repeated, with a slightly manic smile, and he slapped Boots on the back again. "Never lets us down. Never asks too many questions that can't be answered. Hey, Pete!" he yelled suddenly, startling a very sleepy-looking Pete Anderson. Bruno jogged after him, Pete moving more quickly to get away, leaving Boots behind.

"What's up with Bruno?" Sidney Rampulsky asked, coming up beside Boots. "And what happened outside your room last night? You guys woke me up."

Boots shrugged, in what he hoped was a nonchalant fashion. "Swamp gas. Just what the Fish said."

" _Wow_ ," said Sidney, stumbling over his own feet in surprise. "What are the odds?"

 

 

 

**Two.**

The alarm went off with a high-pitched beeping. Boots was in the middle of a terrific (and slightly terrifying) dream wherein he and Bruno were co-captains of the Toronto Maple Leafs, tied for most goals in the league, but for some reason they had to share a tiny changing room; something to do with budget cuts, the general manager had told them. Boots had been trying to avert his eyes as Bruno cheerfully stripped down in front of him.

The beeping stopped suddenly, but he was awake now, and rolled over to see Bruno quietly sneaking out of the room.

"What's up?" Boots asked Bruno, only it came out as an incoherent mumble, and Bruno didn't hear. Boots' eyes slowly focused on the clock, and he saw that it was just after eleven PM.

He sighed, and rolled onto his back. He was too late to follow Bruno, who could be anywhere by now; he'd just try to wait up for him to get back. He turned on the radio again to help keep him awake.

"Welcome back, this is the Sunday Night Sex Show with Sue Johanson," came the pleasant voice from the radio. "Let's have our next caller."

"Hi, Sue?" said a voice that made Boots sit up with a start. "My name is, um, Melvin."

"Hello Melvin," the host replied. "What's your question tonight?"

"Well," the voice-that-sounded-suspiciously-like-Bruno said, "I was just, um, wondering about some things. Like, um, I have this roommate, right?"

Boots threw his pillow at the radio. It fell over with a thud, and turned off.

When Bruno crept back into the room twenty minutes later, Boots shut his eyes tightly and pretended to be fast asleep.

By the next morning the news about "Melvin" and his phone call had travelled all around the Hall, even if the Sunday Night Sex Show was on after lights-out. When Boots protested his innocence ("as if I'd let the whole world know my real first name is _Melvin_!") Bruno just turned red and walked away. True to typical Walton form, Boots wasn't able to get a straight answer out of Bruno on the topic; Bruno swore up and down that he'd been visiting Cathy Burton and Diane Grant at Miss Scrimmage's, and wouldn't say anything further.

 

 

 

**Three.**

"If _anyone_ ever mentions the spaghetti again, I will personally see that his parents have to come collect him from the Hall in a very small box."

As Bruno stormed off towards the shower, everyone turned to look at Boots. Unfortunately, he had no idea what Bruno had been up to over in Cathy and Diane's room that night either.

"Probably just trying to impress Cathy, you know how those two are together," Boots said, fluttering his eyelashes and swaying his hips in a way Cathy never would in a million years, earning a loud round of laughter. Down the hallway, he could have sworn he saw Bruno's shoulders droop a little bit. He told himself he didn't really care.

 

 

 

**Four.**

It only took two weeks of setting his alarm early enough to be out the door and done with breakfast before Bruno had even woken up for Bruno to notice that something was bothering Boots.

"Why didn't you wake me for breakfast?" Bruno whined, flopping down on his bed after classes. "I missed it and my stomach rumbled so loud in gym class that Coach Flynn made me run extra laps."

"I saw that," Boots replied, not looking up from his work.

"Come on," Bruno said, throwing a notebook at Boots and missing. "You're ignoring me. You can't do that! We're Bruno and Boots. We do everything together. That includes you waking me up in the mornings. I think it was in the contract."

"Bruno," Boots said seriously, turning to face him. "It's our last year at school. We've been here four months already. And so far _you've_ caused swamp gas to explode, _you've_ been sneaking over to Cathy and Diane's without me, and we haven't had a single scheme together. No zucchini, no swimming pools, no Preservation Societies, nothing. So don't talk to me about 'Bruno and Boots.' Go have fun sleeping with Cathy, or whatever you've been up to that's keeping you so busy. I'm working on my university applications."

Boots turned back to his desk, determined to actually keep at his work, or at least not look back at Bruno. His resolve lasted all of fifteen seconds - not bad, actually.

Bruno was still laid out on his bed, but his expression was dark and stormy and more than a little bit sad. When Boots caught his eye, Bruno jumped up and rushed out the door, muttering to himself.

Boots sighed, and put his head down on his desk. He'd have stayed that way for a long time if Larry Wilson hadn't walked in a few minutes later.

"Hey Boots," he said. "Bruno's gone and replaced the Canadian flag with his underwear, thrown all the school's footballs onto the highway, and is threatening to poison dinner. Wilbur's sitting on him to keep him away from the food. You going to come talk some sense into him?"

"No," Boots said, and Bruno didn't come back that night at all.

 

 

 

**Five.**

The Chutney _Daily Observer_ reported that while things had seemed pretty grim for a while at Miss Scrimmage's Finishing School For Young Ladies, the day had been admirably saved by Macdonald Hall's Headmaster, Mr. Sturgeon, wielding only a pocket knife, a small length of string, and a hardcover copy of _Anne of Green Gables_. Dressed in his red bathrobe and leather slippers, Mr. Sturgeon was an awe-inspiring sight. Asked about his exploits afterwards, the headmaster modestly gave credit for the entire situation to a student, Melvin 'Boots' O'Neal, and promised that he would "duly mete out the appropriate consequences" to said student the next morning at 8 AM, in his office.

The article went on to advise parents to consider Macdonald Hall for their children; the leadership and student body appeared to be of unmatched quality.

* * *

When Boots walked back into Room 306 at 8:45, he had to stoop to get under the banner hanging over the door. _We'll miss you, Boots!_ it said, in large, uneven letters. Inside the door was another banner, this one even more roughly done, saying, _But you've got balls!_

Boots laughed, long and hard. Bruno watched him from his bed, a guarded expression on his face.

"I wanted to get confetti and balloons, but it was such short notice," he said.

"When is _anything_ too short notice for you?" Boots asked. "And anyway, I wasn't expelled. The Fish couldn't pin anything on me. For some reason, he seems to think it was just a certain bad influence that would cause me to get involved in something like that at all."

Bruno burst into a grin, and sat up happily. "I thought you might think balloons were too much anyway. I did liberate some cake, though," he said, producing a lump of chocolate cake and a fork. "Last meal for the condemned man, and all that."

Boots just shook his head. "Honestly, Bruno," he started. "This has been a really, really weird year. I was only over there at Scrimmage's because I heard a rumour that you were going to do something big enough to get yourself expelled, and no matter how much of an ass you've been this year, I couldn't let that happen."

"Yeah," Bruno said, hanging his head. "I probably should have warned you about those booby-traps."

"And I probably shouldn't have brought Elmer's new exploding remote-controlled Frisbees, but it _was_ pretty funny when Miss Scrimmage thought she was being attacked by aliens."

Bruno just whistled. "That's my man," he said, admiringly, and a bit sadly. "That's my Boots."

Boots sat down on his bed, feeling a bit uncomfortable, and avoided Bruno's eyes.

"Boots," Bruno continued, in an uncertain voice that sounded entirely odd coming from his mouth, "I'm not sleeping with Cathy, you know."

Boots' head shot up, and he stared at Bruno. "Er...no?"

"No," Bruno said, nodding. "Or Diane."

"Diane! Who said that you were sleeping with Diane?" Boots exclaimed.

"No one! But, um, I thought you might think that. Or something. Listen. This year's been all wrong. None of my schemes are working out at all," Bruno said, sadly.

"Why do you even need any schemes?" Boots asked. "Beside the fact that you're Bruno Walton, and it's practically bred into your bones. But why haven't you asked me for help? I'm great at schemes. Honestly."

"You _were_ my scheme," Bruno said carefully, resolutely staring at his comforter.

Boots stared at Bruno like he'd grown another head.

"But I figure it doesn't really matter, because if you wouldn't even talk to me because of it, then obviously I need to stop," Bruno continued.

"Bruno," Boots said carefully, avoiding the real topic that had his stomach doing flip-flops, "did you just learn a lesson?"

Bruno burst out laughing, and Boots couldn't help but join in.

"Me and you," Bruno said, when he'd caught his breath. "Alright?" He crossed the room and kissed Boots on the lips. Half a second later, he ran over to the door, flung it open, and went galloping down the hallway, bellowing at the top of his lungs. "Boots didn't get expelled! He's staying at the Hall! Long live the Fish!"

All down the hallway, boys started streaming out of their rooms, cheering and laughing. Boots just rubbed his fingers over his lips, shaking his head. He slowly went over to the door, and poked his head out.

"Hey, Bruno!" he yelled. "The swamp gas!"

Bruno turned around, red in the face. "You really, _really_ don't want to know about that one," he said. " _Really_."

"Alright," Boots said with a smile, and he leaned against the doorframe while Bruno started an impromptu conga line with the other boys. Within minutes two ankles had been twisted, Sidney had probably broken his arm, and Wilbur was running after Bruno, who had taken the last piece of cake. Same as always, then, Boots thought. Good old Bruno and Boots.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Import of my Yuletide 2006 story. Comments pasted here for posterity:
> 
> From: abi z  
> Date: 11/16/2008 Hee, this is so cute! Poor Bruno, with his schemes that just keep not quite working out. :)
> 
> From: daemonluna  
> Date: 12/29/2007 I love how your five-things all add up, plot-wise. The hijinx are great and hee, the Sunday Night Sex Show!
> 
> From: Elizabeth  
> Date: 06/20/2007 I really don't want to admit how much I love this, or how much I believe it. Because I'm kind of trying not cry from laughter at work, and if I think about how fantastic this is, I will get some really funny looks. This makes *so much sense* it's kind of scary.
> 
> From: Pares  
> Date: 02/04/2007 wielding only a pocket knife, a small length of string, and a hardcover copy of Anne of Green Gables.  
> Heeee. This was very charming.
> 
> From: Aithine  
> Date: 02/04/2007 LOL Bruno does totally suck at wooing. *g* This was thoroughly delightful! You've got the whimsy and the humor of the books down pat. *vbg*
> 
> From: smithereen  
> Date: 01/01/2007 Awesome, awesome, AWESOME!!! I love it so much. You cracked me up repeatedly, but you got a sad little thread of melancholy and UST in there too that worked perfectly. This is just so very Bruno and Boots, and I love you for it!
> 
> From: Janet Carter  
> Date: 12/29/2006 Oh, this is hilarious, and then so sweet! Yay, Bruno and Boots.
> 
> From: Mute Cornett  
> Date: 12/27/2006 Awww! This was so sweet!
> 
> From: stubbleglitter  
> Date: 12/27/2006 That was so completely fantastic! Totally in keeping with the tone of the books, hysterically funny, and utterly loveable. Fantastic work!
> 
> From: Miss Pamela  
> Date: 12/27/2006 Aww! That was great.
> 
> From: marginaliana  
> Date: 12/27/2006 Eeeeeeee!! This is hysterical! I love how exasperated Boots is through the whole thing - very in character. And the swamp gas!! Excellent! You've really captured the spirit and tone of the canon perfectly. What a delightful read.
> 
> From: ceares  
> Date: 12/27/2006 Aww! So cute. Bruno always has such elaborate schemes, and this fit that perfectly.
> 
> From: Erin  
> Date: 12/26/2006 This is excellent! It was sweet, in character, and in keeping with the tone of the book. The ending brings a tear to my eye. Love it!
> 
> From: Zulu  
> Date: 12/26/2006 Aww, Bruno sucks at wooing. Good job.
> 
> From: V  
> Date: 12/26/2006 Oh, this is adorable! Aww, boys! Really captured the flavour of the books, and I'm *so* amused by the Sue Johanson bit. You just know Bruno would think he's brilliant for coming up with the scheme, too, and then all confused when it doesn't work. hee. Thanks so much!
> 
> From: Nora Bombay  
> Date: 12/25/2006 Bruno & Boots = Love. This was great.
> 
> From: Lady Mondegreen  
> Date: 12/25/2006 You've got the whimsy of the books down pat. Wonderful story!
> 
> From: Elucreh  
> Date: 12/25/2006 This would totally by Bruno's idea of a mating ritual. *g* Well done!


End file.
